Breakaway
by HoodedSpellcaster
Summary: Severus likes shiny things, like very small glimmering rocks and new pennies and aluminium wrappers. Shining bright things with no actual value. Things like trash. Lily is trash, too, (but not really) and she's the brightest of them all. / / Snily friendship, Pre-Marauders Era.
**QLFC Round 3 - Word Restricted Team Pride**

ROUND PROMPT: Show some team pride! This round's focus was on using our team name as a prompt. In our case, as we are the Montrose Magpies, that word was _ma_ _gpie(s)._ Each team member was also given a word count restriction to work with. No two members of the same team were allowed to use the same word count.

WORD COUNT RESTRICTION: 2001-2250

WORD COUNT WITH LYRICS: 2116 / / WORD COUNT WITHOUT LYRICS: 2009

Both word counts are from FanFiction Doc Manager. Word counts don't include author's note or any other info.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS:

5\. (quote) 'All we have to decide is what to do with the time given to us' - JRR Tolkien

8\. (colour) lilac

15\. (word) cosmos

A/N: Magpies are believed to collect shiny objects. I don't have any actual magpies in this story, but I transferred that trait to Severus Snape, whom I saw fit for the part. Lyrics are from Kelly Clarkson's song "Breakaway" and the story is named after it. Big thanks to my sister (for being such a wonderful plot-bunny) and to Jordi (for efficient beta-work). Love you!

Disclaimer: I don't own the song or any recognizable characters.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 _Grew up in a small town / /_ _And when the rain would fall down_

 _I'd just stare out my window_

 _Dreamin' of what could be / /_ _And if I'd end up happy_

 _I would pray_

 _Trying hard to reach out / /_ _But when I tried to speak out_

 _Felt like no one could hear me_

 _Wanted to belong here / /_ _But something felt so wrong here_

 _So I pray_

 _I could breakaway_

-o-o-o-o-o-

In a way, I feel I'm like a magpie. Inside and out, now that I think about it. I have a sharp nose and pale complexion. Too big clothes, more often than not they're dark grey or black, because then the stains won't stand out so much. I like high places like our roof and the old windmill on the hill nearby.

But more than anything I like bright things, like very small glimmering rocks and new pennies and aluminium wrappers. Shining bright things with no actual value. Trash, people call them. I keep them hidden in a cardboard box under my bed. I like the rays of sun that escape through the veil of clouds the most, but I can't keep pick those up from the street for myself like I would want to. It's not like the sun shines around here that much anyway. It's like the light avoids this side of the river.

What I don't like are the rain and the dimly lit rooms.

Right now it's raining like it will never stop.

Rain pours down with all its power into every nook and cranny of the old houses, trying to find a way through the roofs and walls, and often succeeding in it. The clouds won't go away. They stay high up in the sky, dark and looming, and block out the rays of the sun. I've witnessed the puddles growing larger each passing day. My socks are enough proof of that. They are drying on top of the radiator in my room where my Father can't find them. He doesn't know my newer shoes have holes, too. What he doesn't know, doesn't hurt him. What he doesn't know, doesn't hurt _me_.

Water stains the window. Lone driplets join their brothers and sisters, making little paths down the glass as if they were ants following the same narrow trails to their home. It's their never ending march. The rain continues and no ray of sun hits the ground. It makes me sad. I exhale. The small puff of breath is enough to mist the glass and I quickly wipe it away. I stop and stare. My reflection seems so twisted with the trickles on the glass. I look like I'm crying, but I'm not. I'm not crying. It's not me crying, it's just the sky. I glance at my treasure box underneath my bed, and there behind my Mother's old school books is her priced Gobstones set.

I wipe my face with my hands. I don't dare to admit that the wetness on my cheeks was not from the rain. Spinner's End is far from a place where I'd want to be or stay. Not with my drunken Father and miserable Mother.

Not where the brightest things are your tears, beer bottles, and tarnished belt buckles.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Lily Evans is my first, best, and only real friend.

She is smart and pretty and she has magic like I do. I haven't yet met her parents, only her older sister, but she's insisting I stay for dinner some day. I don't know if I can, even if I want to. She hasn't met my parents, either, but that's because I simply don't want her to. So I often come to pick her up from her neighbourhood because I don't want her anywhere near my home. She doesn't need to know where I live or with whom. It's easier that way. I don't want her pity. I want us to stay friends and that could ruin it all. Or she would understand and help me get through these months until we can go to Hogwarts together, but I'm not ready to take that step yet. Maybe later.

In the summer, the street she lives in is like a living canvas. The sun paints everything with a warm hue. Pinks and reds of the various summer flowers like cosmoses and cranesbills take turns with lilacs and whites of lush _Syringa_ trees, not forgetting the beautiful multi-coloured pansies and tulips and proudly standing oaks and apple trees. Each lawn is freshly mowed with the scent of cut grass hanging in the air. Each house nice and homely and so inviting. Nothing is dark and dusty with sharp corners and broken pavings. It's soft and earthly and so much like magic it makes me grin in glee as we explore all the area. Sometimes the old man walks by the street with a Half-Kneazle. From what I've seen they're hunting for Bowtruckles. The hedges are full of them.

But then, after weeks of sunshine, came the rain.

Rain makes everything worse. It had been an almost rainless summer prior to Tuesday, and just yesterday I promised Lily that I would take her to the upper reaches of the river where the water is clearer and almost warm enough to swim in. She has never been there because it takes almost an hour by foot. We planned to skip stones, maybe even try to catch frogs or small newts for fun. Father hadn't been happy the last time I went out when it was raining, but I would never let Lily down. Not when I have promised her something and I have a reason to not be at home. _Maybe we could hang out at her house today_ , I think as I put on my shoes, _and then go to the river later this week?_

The walk to Lily's place feels somehow longer in rain, I wonder why that is, as I trudge forward. Lily is outside in her green jacket, plaid skirt and rain boots, sopping wet from her head to her toes. She shouldn't have been alone in the rain. She'll get ill. Don't her parents care at all? Lily always says good things about them, and I know they aren't like my parents. They seem like good people. So does she maybe want to get wet? But that's ridiculous, she can't seriously –

Lily jumps from one puddle to another, splashing water around and laughing loudly. Okay, she definitely wants to get wet.

"Sev!" she calls when she notices me. My shoes make sloshing noises when I walk towards her. Finally there is only one big puddle between us and I can ask her why she is out in the rain.

"Because it hasn't been raining in ages, silly!"Lily replies easily. "And it will probably end soon and then I don't know when it'll rain again!" She grins, glancing first at me and then at the puddle. I don't like what she's thinking right now. I take a hesitant step away from her. "All we have to decide," she jumps and giggles when the water hits me, "is what to do with the time given to us! So come on, Sev! Jump with me!"

I take the offered hand, rolling my eyes and letting Lily pull me to the puddle with her. The dirt water is chilly but the rain is warm and I don't feel cold when I splash the water at Lily. Water gets in my shoes and soaks my socks, as if they weren't wet already, but we're having so much fun I barely notice the wetness at all. There isn't a dry spot on my clothes when we stop and the humidity makes my hair curl ridiculously but thankfully Lily doesn't laugh at me, because she looks very much the same. Right then I don't hate rain. I hate it only when I'm alone. With Lily, rain makes me want to burst out laughing because we look ludicrous with our light clothes sticking to our skin and dirt smeared cheeks.

"You know what," Lily starts, flipping her dripping wet bangs off her face, "I think we have ice cream in the freezer!"

"Ice cream in the rain?" I ask suspiciously, eyes squinting. "Really, Lily? Why?"

"Because, why not? Because it's summer? Because Mum just bought strawberry popsicles when I told her you've never had any?"

"Lily!" I stare at her, flabbergasted. "You didn't need to tell her that!"

"But I did," says Lily with a wide toothy grin. "Let's go."

The Evans family lives in a red brick house with a white fence and an apple tree. Very homely, if not so scary. I gulp, following Lily to the door. I know I don't look my best today but meeting Lily's parents looking like this... Suddenly I feel very out of place.

"Are your parents home?" I ask timidly before coming further in after her. I look around, my metaphorical tail between my legs. The colours in the hallway are warm and welcoming shades of brown and red. The lingering scent of booze I'm used to isn't present. I immediately like Lily's parents a bit more.

"No, only me and Tuney," Lily says, making me feel relieved. "Mum and Dad went to see Grandma in the hospital. Nothing serious," she adds quickly. She doesn't take her shoes off when hurries to the kitchen, leaving dirty footprints on the floor. I look at the kitchen from the hallway, pointing at the mess she made.

"What? Oh, I'll clean it later," she says, blushing lightly and opens the freezer. "It's no biggie."

Petunia, Lily's older sister, storms in the kitchen, having heard the door. "You – you _children_!" she shrieks pointing at the dirt and water all over the floor. I want to roll my eyes because she isn't that much older than us but I refrain from doing that. Petunia doesn't really like me and I don't want to give her any reasons to hate me more. She looks in disdain at my worn coat and mud covered shoes, a sneer forming on her face.

"Oh hi, Tuney," Lily says, two popsicles in hand. "You want a popsicle, too? Mum bought orange flavour just for you."

Petunia flushes angrily. "Keep your trashy popsicles," she hisses. "And your trashy friend." She turns around, throwing one last look at me and stomps away. "You're _both_ thrash! Messy, naughty, twisted little _freaks_!" she yells before we hear her slam a door upstairs.

Lily looks ashamed of her sister's outburst, even though we've both witnessed Petunia's mood swings a few times too many. She doesn't say anything before we're outside again. The rain has subsided for now, but the clouds still linger on the sky, painting it dark grey. Lily hums in thought and unwraps one popsicle.

"Here," she says, offering it to me before she starts opening her own. "One strawberry popsicle for you, one strawberry popsicle for me. And none for Tuney since she didn't want one and she's allergic to strawberries."

Lily's smile is contagious and I feel the corners of my mouth tugging upwards. Lily might be trash, (even though she's not, not really) but she is more like a glittering candy wrapper or a ring from an Easter egg than anything else people throw away. She shines so bright when she smiles like that. As trash she's not worth much, but I will be here to pick her up and keep her as if she is the world's most precious treasure.

"I'd like to make a toast!" Lily declares. She raises her popsicle in the air and beckoned me to do the same. "For our last summer before we go to Hogwarts and all the summers to follow!"

Because she is that and so much more to me.

She is my breakaway.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 _I'll spread my wings, and I'll learn how to fly_

 _I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky_

 _And I'll make a wish / /_ _Take a chance / /_ _Make a change_

 _And breakaway_


End file.
